End in Sight

Payton M. Ishmael

It seems to me, when the completion of any project, goal, or task is in sight, I suddenly am fulfilled with a strong and pertinent second wind. My momentum and drive kicks in to full gear. My determination switches into 4-wheel drive. I learned the meaning of that term just last weekend. For those illiterate in the terms of automotives like I am, it means that all 4 wheels are rolling so the vehicle doesn’t have to rely on just two wheels to do all the work.

Case in point #1.

I’m currently training for a marathon which requires, obviously, that I run a lot. Each day, I set out on the back-roads of Van Zandt County and run aimlessly until 1.) my iPod flashes ‘low battery’ or 2.) my hip indicates that I’m no longer a teenager. It’s interesting to me, whether I run 5,10, 15, or even more miles, as soon as my driveway is in sight, I’m sprinting as fast as my squatty legs will go. Why? I suppose it’s because the end is in sight. Victory is won. I know I can make it.

Case in point #2.

Tomorrow, at long last, is my final day of grad school as far as my master’s degree is concerned. I can honestly say, that a few, short months ago, I was burned out, bored, and wondering if all the time consumed by my classes was worth it. The last couple weeks, however, the countdown has been steadily ticking and as a result, I’ve submitted all assignments days and sometimes weeks before they’re due. Why? Once again, the end is in sight. My degree will soon be conferred. I’ve accomplished what I set out to do.

An Exception to the Rule

Then, of course, there’s the exception. Unfortunately, not all our endeavors provide a gleaming porch light or a fancy piece of paper indicating the end is near. If this were the case, perhaps we’d all finish strong in the end. Instead, there are many instances where we’re taken by surprise, including our most important ambition of all. “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.” –Matthew 24:42 For this, we won’t have the opportunity to kick it in to full speed. In a race where you can’t see the checkered flag, it’s best to sprint it out and give it your best for the entire race. This is the finish line worth crossing.

Spiritual Diet

By: Payton M. Ishmael

I’ve seen people play the diet games time and again. I will refrain from sharing my opinion about fad diets, as that is completely beside the point. I do, however, want you to think very hard and select someone in your mind who has made some sort of drastic transformation in their physical appearance; whether it be gaining a significant amount from pregnancy or food, or perhaps they shed a great deal of pounds.

I’m always very impressed by people who set a goal to lose weight and then watch them work each and every day to achieve that dream. Losing weight is hard work. Unfortunately, it doesn’t come with instant gratification. You can workout for hours upon hours, eat very strictly, and even in a week’s time, it’s very unlikely that people will notice any change in your appearance. Instead, these people stick with it, knowing that slowly but surely, their bodies are changing and the benefits of healthy eating and exercise habits are in store.

The same is true of our spiritual lives. Allow me, once again, to be completely transparent with you. I can remember, very vividly, a time in my life when all that mattered to me was serving God. I can remember being willing to do whatever it took to please my Savior. Growing up, I always heard stories of the Pentecostal yesteryear and the miraculous moves of the Spirit. I wanted that more than anything. It was to the point that I inquired whether the long hair, no make-up, tragic attire was, in fact, necessary for me to experience God in the ways that I’d heard about. I was willing to do whatever it took.

Much to my shame, I gained a great deal of spiritual baggage over a long period of time that deteriorated my spiritual health. I picked up a couple of bad habits, a few pounds of jealousy, a little bit of bitterness there, some resentment there, and it didn’t stop. Unintentionally, I became the exact opposite of the girl crying out for more of God.

Multiple times, I embarked upon a spiritual diet fad; giving up this, refraining from that. I wanted to be back in the place I once was; solely seeking the Lord’s purpose for my life. I was pursuing Christ like a fad diet; expecting immediate results. Like Atkins and South Beach, those changes are only temporary. I knew I needed permanent change. It takes time. It’s a daily pursuit. With each day, we must continue working hard. We won’t see instant changes, but a gradual transformation over time as we continue seeking Him, speaking to Him, praising Him, serving Him. Just like lifestyle changes for physical health, we won’t be granted instant gratification, but over time, as we continue to strive towards the cross, we will become all that He intended.

“The more I seek You, the more I find You. The more I find You, The more I love You. I want to sit at Your fit, drink from the cup in Your hand; Lay back against You and breathe, feel Your heart beat. This love is so deep. It’s more than I can stand. I melt in Your peace. It’s overwhelming.” – Christ for the Nations Music

Shaken, Not Stirred

What a week! As many of you have heard, public schools across the nation are facing federal and state budget cuts. School districts will now be required to do more with less; less money, less resources, less teachers. A campus-wide meeting and a district letter informing us that several teachers would be laid off was the kick-off to my Super Bowl week. Followed by a loss of 5 yards for hurt feelings, a fumble caused by an over priced oil change, and yet another penalty for my new front tires. Sound like a game to you? Not even close, that was barely the first quarter. Frozen pipes, lost electricity, and frigid weather contributed to an albeit severe loss of yardage this week.

-TIME OUT!-

In the pregame, otherwise known as the new year, I made some lofty commitments to myself and to the Lord in which I have every intention of keeping. A year that began with a refreshing sense of peace is facing a tumultuous defensive line and it's trying to deter me from breaking through to the end zone.

For the purpose of my pride and ego, I want you to picture that I painted on eye black beneath both eyes, gritted my teeth, and form tackled through everything I was facing. Although that would be a complete and total lie. The truth is, I hopped in my car on my lunch break, pressed the accelerator to 104 MPH (sorry Dad) and headed straight to the refuge of Anna and Poppy's house. I sobbed in panic and despair, tears as big as linebackers and sobs as loud as dog pile tackles.

For several days, I allowed the defense to lay me flat out play after play after play.

Finally, a time out was called from the sideline. "Payton, you're not the coach. Quit trying to run the game, you're being a ball hog. I'm the coach, I call the plays. You're here to take my direction and I'll make a path for you where ever the enemy strikes. It may not be a path you can see right now, but I know this game better than anyone else. Let me do my job."

You see, this week I've been shaken; upside down and inside out. I've seen character flaws come to surface that I need to address. Thankfully though, I've not been stirred. I know I have a purpose. I know I have a coach in the Lord who will call the plays for His glory. I simply have to follow His lead believing in faith that he is the author and finisher.

Just like touchdowns, blessings most often come in disguise.

Status Update

By: Payton M. Ishmael

It was the year 2004 nestled in Cambridge, Massachussetts that social networking would forever change communication for people of all generations. It was here that Mark Zuckerberg launched Facebook, what is now a daily experience for most users.

I recruited a couple of my closest friends this week to conduct a little experiment. I asked them to send me some of the most haunting status updates they saw on Facebook in a given day. For those of you who do not make up one of over 6 million users, status updates take place when someone posts an announcement on their own page, which then filters into a newsfeed that becomes available for all of their “Facebook friends” to see. For the purpose of this article, names have been omitted to protect the innocent. Here’s what we found;

· “Having the worst week EVER!”

· “I think I’ve aged five years this week, ridiculously stressed.”

· “Now add that to a badly compressed disc in my back.”

· “Just can’t do enough :(”

I admit it was extremely difficult to narrow down all the burdens bared and openly shared on Facebook. It seems as if they only got worse as the week progressed. Now, I’m not criticizing these people. We all have our bad days, but there’s a better solution than airing out your laundry or troubles on the Internet.

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and he shall sustain you; He shall never permit the righteous to be moved.” – Psalm 55:22.

Believe it or not, God likes hearing from us. I remember as a child being told to talk to Him, just like I talk to my best friend. He knows our triumphs and troubles before we even face them, but He still delights in our communication with Him. Only He has the answers and the power to bring us through our storms. He is responsible for all the success and joy in our lives. Perhaps it’s time we update our status with the one who really matters, the one who truly cares.

“…casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” – I Peter 5:7

Not So Hot Date

By: Payton M. Ishmael

I know they say you shouldn’t mix your personal and professional lives, for this though, I feel it necessary to make an exception. A while back, I went on a date. I looked forward to this time for several days, but all of my anticipation and excitement quickly dwindled when the evening finally arrived. I have a healthy self-esteem, and a great deal of self-respect. That being said, I require at least an equivalent of that amount of respect from any ‘gentleman’ I spend time with.

When we arrived, my date quickly forgot that I was present. In fact, I’m pretty sure that my existence was overlooked. Done, done, and done. A behavior lacking manners is not one I choose to associate with. The poor jerk had committed date-homicide. He noticed everyone and everything the entire evening except for me, and I was his date after all.

Sitting in church last Sunday night, the memory kept coming to the forefront of my mind and I simply couldn’t figure out why. It suddenly dawned on me. I come to church every week (most weeks anyway). My thought process is consumed; “I hope the teenagers are getting something from the Sunday school lesson. Did I remember to proofread the newsletter before I sent it to be printed? I love talking to people before church starts.”

It seems I’m guilty of neglecting my own date, my own purpose, my own reason for attending week after week. As Poppy/Brother Ishmael encouraged us to truly worship, not just go through the motions, I instantly knew that the thought meant something. Our experience when we enter this place of worship should have one sole and solitary purpose. All attention should be paid Him. He should be properly introduced to all who enter. Most of all, He should know that He is loved, admired, respected, held in esteem.

Gentlemen, I hope you’ve learned two lessons today.
(Written for House of Prayer newsletter)

This Ain't Nothin'

Let’s face it. Sometimes worry overwhelms us like storm clouds taking over a sun shining day. As of late, I’ve been working towards taking life’s surprises, good or bad, in stride and crossing each bridge when I get there. This week, I discovered that life’s little miracles can often be granted even beneath a dark, dreary sky.

A couple days each week, I leave the intermediate school promptly at 3:45 to arrive to the eye clinic by 4, where I pre-authorize insurance, schedule appointments, and perform pre-screenings. I’m sure many of you can relate with days that seem to never end; not bad per say, just seemingly endless. When the office was cleaned and closed down, I took the familiar walk through the parking lot to my car. It’s been a cold week. The bitter wind makes my skin hurt and it burns when I breathe. I manage to get behind the wheel, take a huge breath of relief that sleep is near, and start my car.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” In bright orange letters, which happens to be my very least favorite color, appears the warning, “CHECK ENGINE!”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!

Initially, I was flooded with a diverse array of thoughts, “Where do I go to get this fixed?” “What does this mean?” “How much is going to cost?” “WHY IS THE WORLD OUT TO GET ME???”
I did what any girl would do, the same thing I do to my phone and my computer when they have sudden glitches. I turned it off, and then right back on. To my dismay, the tacky message remained. I was forced to resort to PLAN B: ignore it and worry about it tomorrow. I mean, it’s 8 o’clock on a Tuesday night. Car shops aren’t going to be open anyway.

Car problem; solved. Now, what about my blood pressure? It was time to engage in emergency therapy; loud music, a long run, and a deep hydrating facial mask. I appreciate country music for the most part, but it came in especially handy this particular night.

“He said I lost my daddy, when I was eight years old,
That cave-in at the Kincaid mine left a big old hole,
And I lost my baby brother, my best friend and my left hand
In a no win situation in a place called Vietnam
And last year I watched my loving wife, of fifty years waste away and die
We were holding hands when her heart of gold stopped pumping
So this ain't nothin'”

Please excuse the tragic grammar of Craig Morgan, but consider his words. “This ain’t nothin.”
Nobody likes bad days, but without them, the good days wouldn’t be so great. Most of the time, it seems that ‘when it rains, it pours.’ Fortunately though, storms don’t last forever. In fact, doubt, dread, and despair will move out as quickly as they arrived. Be still and know. Life goes on. Things get better. “This ain’t nothin’!”

And now, for the rest of the story…

My check engine light was off the next morning. It was nothing…

Once In a Lifetime

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Looking back, I can recall many times that I was a part of something special, something so much greater than myself. At the time, it seemed like just another day. Now, though, I wish I had pictures, or perhaps a recording of my thoughts of those times. Blame it on youth or perhaps carelessness, I let the moments pass; wishing for the next moment, hoping for what lie ahead, never embracing the present for all the beauty it be held.

There are times I can vaguely remember. Memories I know are once in a life time. I had just arrived back to my step-grandparents’ house from the Canton skating rink when O.J. Simpson was being chased for the murder of his wife. I was in high school chemistry class when I heard the news of 9/11. I was in the audience when my baby brother crossed the stage to receive his college diploma. I can even remember the horror that overcame me when I ran barefoot down the hospital hallways when I was informed my mother had cancer.

Other times I regret I have no recollection. Where was I when the Federal Building was bombed in Oklahoma City? How did I feel when my best friend said, “I do” to the man she will spend the rest of her life with? Where was I when she told me she would soon be called “mommy”? These things, I simply can’t remember because I made no point to commit them to long-term memory. Instead, I let the emotion and anxiety go unintentionally with the passing of the moment.

This time, I won’t allow the time to pass without devoting a written record to the beauty of the moment.

It’s the eve of New Year’s Eve and I’m snowed in to beautiful cabin in Durango, Colorado. The trip began Christmas Day with a road trip and overnight stay to Santa Fe, New Mexico followed by another day driving and fun filled evening in our final destination. Our first two complete days in Durango were spent skiing Purgatory from the instant the lifts opened until sunset required they close. Beautiful surroundings, a great time in the snow, and not a responsibility one was tainted only by a single worry; the incoming snowstorm defined by any Texan as a sure fire blizzard.

And so here I am, two days later, in the same exact spot on the couch. Our vehicle hasn’t budged. The front doors can’t be opened for fear of the 5-feet snow flooding inside. I sit watching the snow continue to fall. I’ve never seen anything like this before. I’ve skied more times than I count. The snow, even for a Texan, is nothing new to me, but being truly snowed-in… this is a first time experience.
As we watched the storm move in, I was a little hesitant to embrace the moment. In fact, I instantly wondered what I would do for a week and how in the dear heavens I’d get along with my company. I admit, everything was going better than expected when someone expressed, “you know, something like this will never happen to us again in our lifetime.”

Once in a life time…

I’m forced in to relaxation and solitude from everyone except the constituents of this house. I’m the only person whose phone has absolutely no service; thank you AT&T. I now apologize for my ceaseless texting and inability to separate from my trusty iPhone, because I realize how completely wasteful it is to simply not be able to enjoy the moment. How much time, I wonder, has passed me by because I’ve been texting, reading e-mail, or albeit checking Facebook? Snowed-in lesson number 1, I’ll be rejoining the world less dependent on my little cellular device.
Prior to my arrival, I allotted myself a budget to spend at the town’s fabulous boutiques. I prefer small shops over mall stores that way I don’t show up in the same outfit as someone else. Thank you, Anna. Since the snow, though, is half the height of the garage door, there’s no shopping for me. Instead, I’ve taken complete advantage of nature’s ensemble. Breath-taking mountains accessorized with white so fine it looks like billions of diamonds sparkling beneath the winter shine. Move over Prada, God-a is the true fashionista, and I don’t even have to max out my credit card or anyone else’s to enjoy. Snowed-in lesson number 2, save the cheddah, nature is betta!

There’s no end in sight to the snow storm we’re currently facing. I haven’t seen the sky clear in two days, and the forecast for tomorrow is no different. With all this time on my hands, I’m sure there are many lessons to be learned prior to my departure. I welcome them with open arms. I gladly embrace the timeless elegance of these moments that’ll never come again. Snowed-in lesson number 3, live for today, don’t worry about tomorrow. After all, tomorrow will worry about itself.